


chemicals burn hard and clean

by dizzyondreams



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Banter, First Meetings, M/M, basically the story of their canonically disastrous first meeting, mentally ill newt, newt is a little shit, pre kaiju war, ridiculous alan turing references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 15:56:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8108497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzyondreams/pseuds/dizzyondreams
Summary: Newt imagined them hitting it off, Hermann not being perturbed by his tattoos, the way his hands shook, the way he couldn’t control a conversation to save his life. He imagined rain slick dark hair, and freezing cold hands at his waist, against his cheek.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BugTongue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BugTongue/gifts).



> warning for ableism on hermann's part towards the end of the fic

They met on just another rainy, Berlin afternoon. The kind of rain which comes down in sheets, soaking you through in seconds. The raindrops on the windows of the taxi shone like amber in the light of the streetlamps, lit early because of the October gloom. Newt imagined himself encased in amber like a tiny, struggling insect. His socks were wet, his chest was tight with something close to both anxiety and anticipation.

So, he had a crush on Hermann. Or like, something approximating a crush. He was probably half in love with Hermann’s mind already, and he didn’t even know what the guy looked like. Watching the traffic lights blink from amber to green, formless smudges of neon through the rain, Newt wondered how it would go.

He imagined them hitting it off, Hermann not being perturbed by his tattoos, the way his hands shook, the way he couldn’t control a conversation to save his life. He imagined rain slick dark hair, and freezing cold hands at his waist, against his cheek.

“Just right here, dude.” He said suddenly, sitting up straight as he watched the café go past the window. “Ah, shit.” 

Berlin taxi drivers being, well, Berlin taxi drivers, Newt found himself walking back down the road to the café. Collar of his leather jacket turned up against the rain like it would make a difference, cursing himself out for wearing the boots with the holes just because they looked better. The day Newt started taking practicality over aesthetic was the day his parents would find him in his grave. Actually, scratch that, he was gonna be buried in his stupid impractical clothes as well.

He was five minutes late, which was pretty fucking stellar for him, but maybe less so for Hermann. If Newt had gleaned anything from their years of correspondence, Hermann was not a fan of many things, and lateness was right up there next to Americans. It was the German in him, and unfortunately for Newt, there was a little too much American in him to harness that German punctuality.

That’s why he was surprised to see a figure outside the café that could _only_ be Hermann, because who else would be waiting outside in the rain? Newt had never seen a picture of Hermann bar one very blurry group shot after Newt’s obligatory google of the guy. The cane was a bit of a surprise, but the tweed less so. He cut a clean, sharp figure in the driving rain, his fuck-off massive umbrella covering his face _just so_. Newt wished he looked hot when he got rained on, more Ryan Gosling in the Notebook and less drowned rat. 

“Hermann?” He asked as he approached, slicking back his now thoroughly drenched hair from his face before sticking his hand out. “Sorry I’m late dude, cab driver gave me shit.” He covertly ducked under Hermann’s umbrella as he shook his hand.

“Newton?” Hermann’s voice was glacial and _British_ , which Newt had _really_ not been expecting. He spoke German like a native speaker though, as he withdrew his hand with a polite, “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Ah, yeah man, you too.” Newt rubbed the back of his neck, nervous under Hermann’s calculating stare. “Wanna get inside? Fuckin’ horrible out here.”

“I’d like that.” Hermann said, ducking past Newt as he opened the door for him, collapsed umbrella dotting rain on the hardwood floors.

“Too bad it’s horrible today, huh?” Newt said, taking a seat opposite Hermann and shrugging his wet jacket off. “The view outside is really good in the sun.”

They both looked out of the window next to them, down the river that the café sat next to. The rain had turned it hazy and grey, like a watercolour. Hermann hummed.

“I suppose you can’t rely on German weather.” He said, and Newt laughed, too loud and probably obnoxious, judging by the glance Hermann shot him.

They ordered their food, and Newt couldn’t stop sneaking glances across the table at Hermann. He was like a weird alien in an unnatural habitat, straightening the silverware, adjusting his cuffs, looking at Newt from under those truly rude eyelashes. Their eyes met, and Hermann looked away quickly, like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Newt felt the corner of his mouth tip up into a smile.

“So, am I what you were expecting from three long years of having to listen my ramblings?” Newt asked, watching as Hermann stirred at his coffee. His fingers were long and bony, and Newt wanted to feel them on his jaw. He tugged at his wet collar, wondered if his shirt had dried out enough so it was no longer as see through as it had been. He’d seen Hermann’s gaze drop when he’d removed his jacket, and wasn’t sure whether the tiny frown was disapproval for the tattoos or the nipple piercings. Newt would gamble on either, or both. Hermann was a little straight laced, but he’d known that going into this.

“Not quite.” Hermann said, folding a napkin in front of him with clean little movements. Newt grinned at him, heart dropping a little in his chest as he tried to play it off.

“Guess I come across a little more collected on paper, huh?”

Hermann hummed, tipping his head to the side as he gave Newt another one of his long once-overs. “I expect so.”

Newt frowned, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he tried to work out if Hermann was really being this much of an asshole right now. “I didn’t expect you to have such a stick up your ass, frankly.” He said, watching as Hermann’s mouth tightened.

Their food arrived. Newt watched Hermann cut his omelette into several small, orderly pieces, those big, neat hands around his knife and fork. There was a dropping sense of doom in his stomach, and he pushed through it in the only way he knew how. He amped up his obnoxiousness to eleven.

“So like, not to pick apart only like, your dearest brain baby but dude,” He paused to take a bite of his sandwich and leaned back in his chair, chewing thoughtfully. Hermann was watching him carefully like he was about to do something gross, loud, or both. Newt filed this away, a tiny spark of defiance settling in his chest. Fuck this guy. “But your algorithm for plotting the breach is rudimentary at best.” It wasn’t. Newt knew that, Hermann knew that, but it didn’t stop him from narrowing his eyes and stabbing into a piece of omelette. _Good,_ Newt thought, _get mad. I spent €20 getting here._

“I shouldn’t have even tried to explain something so complex to a _biologist_.” Hermann sneered, somehow making ‘biologist’ sound like ‘baby and small dog murderer’. “I should’ve known it would’ve flown over your head.”

“I’m sorry,” Newt replied, overly saccharine. “How many PhDs do you have again?”

Hermann glowered at him, stabbing away at his food as though he very much wished it was Newt. “I will not apologise for having an attention span and being _decisive_.” 

“That’s good,” Newt said, grinning. “Because you’ll have a lot of apologising to do. Six rounds, by my count.”

Hermann’s pale skin was looking decidedly blotchy, and Newt wasn’t sure whether it was hilarious or hot. Probably a little bit of both. He slurped at his coffee to make Hermann flinch.

“You’re a horrible little man.” Hermann sniffed, giving Newt this look from under those eyelashes that made Newt’s stomach feel weird. He grinned and tilted back on his chair legs, pointed at Hermann.

“You’ve got me there.”

“There’s no need to be so proud of it,” Hermann retorted. “If you can come across so well in your letters you can surely bring some modicum of sense to the real world.”

“Sense is subjective.” Newt said thoughtfully, pleased with how wound up Hermann was becoming. “And besides, it’s so easy to come across like a sensible guy when you’re putting words down, less so when you’re having to deal with Alan Turing come to life but exponentially less fun and latently gay.”

“It wasn’t latent.” Hermann snapped, and Newt felt his grin stretch wider.

“Yeah well, he wasn’t fun either.”

“Speak for yourself.” 

They stared at each other across the table. Judging by the way Hermann kept looking around at the other diners, Newt was probably raising his voice. He couldn’t tell, really, but right now he was feeling mad and fired up and just on the cusp of being intellectually challenged enough to really yell.

“Besides your crush on Alan Turing - completely expected, by the way. No man talks about numbers and computers the way you do could be a) not gay for Turing and b) not gay for Turing.”

“Shut _up_.” Hermann hissed, leaning across the table as though Newt had just read his medical files out to the whole café. Newt smirked.

“This is Berlin, buddy, no one gives a shit if you wanna hop on Turing’s _bombe_.”

“The bombe weighs a _ton_.” Hermann said scathingly, and Newt raised his eyebrows and whistled, much to his chagrin, judging by the look on his face.

“How’s the Jaeger academy, by the way.” Newt asked, grudgingly, because he had really begun to enjoy the way Hermann’s ears were turning beet red from embarrassment/anger.

“I was forced to drop out.” Hermann said in a steely tone which clearly conveyed he wanted no more questions asked about it. Unfortunately, Newt was a little asshole.

“Oh, yeah? How come?” Newt was balancing very precariously on the back legs of his chair. Hermann was methodically tearing a napkin into tiny little squares. Newt watched, fascinated that someone could possibly be so anal.

“None of your business.” Hermann replied, eyes on the river through the sheets of rain.

“When did you decide that, dude?” Newt laughed. “Let me just remember what you said in your last letter...something about not being able to contain yourself about seeing me?”

“Those were not my words.”

“Couldn’t wait to fill me in on your jet setting life?”

“Paraphrasing.”

“I never paraphrase, dude.” Newt stared at Hermann until he could sense him physically relenting. His hands paused in their motions.

“The physical training became too strenuous for my worsening...condition.” Hermann said, voice low enough to be hidden under the hiss of the coffee maker and the babble of the other customers. “I was forced to remove myself from the program. I design code for the jaegers now.”

“Surprisingly good call.” Newt supplied. “I hate those meathead glorified jocks anyway. They’re the type of guys who beat me up in the schoolyard and went on to become cops.” He made a noise of disgust. Hermann’s lips were flat with disapproval.

“Those glorified jocks have saved your life countless times.”

“Not me, man.” Newt grinned. “Like I’d ever be stupid enough to live near a body of water.” He doesn’t mention San Francisco, he doesn’t need to. 

“You surprise me.” Hermann said dryly, “I would have thought you would go chasing them.”

“Contrary to popular belief, my man, I have a healthy pants-shitting fear of the Kaiju.” He gestured to his tattoos, few but begging to be expanded on. “This is just bravado.”

“Absolutely gauche as well.” Hermann replied, and Newt rolled his eyes.

“Okay, we get it, you were born in the 17th century and you still think electricity is witchcraft and body art is for the gutter scum of this world.” Newt waved off his weak criticism, he’d had worse.

“How does a man with six PhDs create a sentence like that?” Hermann asked, icy polite, and Newt bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

“I’m _so_ glad you remembered how many PhDs I have, Herms.” 

“It’s hard not to when you mention it so often.” Hermann replied, reaching for his cup of tea. “And don’t ever call me Herms again.”

God, Newt was really getting a kick out of this guy. Like, sure, they got off to a rocky start. Hermann was just suffering from a case of a near fatal stick up his ass, Newt had dealt with worse. People can’t converse through painstakingly written letters for three whole years and not get along, right? 

“Y’know, I was kicking around the idea about joining the academy.” Newt said idly, stirring his coffee. “I’ve been teaching at MIT for so long, it’s getting a little boring.”

“You have to be the first person to be dissatisfied with a tenured position.” Hermann said wryly, then, “But you can’t be serious about the academy, surely?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Newt said, glancing up at Hermann. He was frowning, and Newt tilted his head to the side to prompt him to speak.

“You are aware they run an array of neurological tests?” He said, and Newt felt his face drop. “I mean, this is the military, you have to be mentally sound enough.”

“What do you mean by that?” Newt said carefully, hoping that Hermann was just being dense, hard to read. He could feel his hand tightening around his spoon.

“Well,” Hermann said, then bluntly, “You’re too mentally unstable to be in the military.”

The rain beat hard against the window. Newt stared at Hermann silently, brain working over-fast as he tried to work out how to save face. He could feel his mouth pulling down at the corners, and shame was pooling heavy and acrid in his stomach. This wasn’t fair, he always held himself so tightly together and Hermann had seen right through him? Fuck this guy.

“ _Fuck. You_.” Newt hissed, and then louder, because fuck it, he was too ‘mentally unstable’ he was allowed to yell in his favourite café in his favourite city at his _former_ favourite person. “You’re a stuck up fucking smug asshole who wouldn’t know a single thing about that.”

People were starting to look, and Hermann looked embarrassed for a split second before he was scowling at Newt, mouth a thin straight line.

“Behave yourself, we’re in public.”

“I’m sorry,” Newt sneered, standing up with a scrape of his chair as he grabbed at his jacket. “I guess I’m just too goddamn crazy to be seen out with you.”

The whole café was watching now, and Hermann was shrinking down in his chair, but still managing to look about half as mad as Newt felt. No one knew anger like Newt, it was always his knee jerk response when he was upset. Better to yell and throw shit than to cry.

“And you know what, asshole,” Newt spat as he pulled his jacket on. “You’ve been uncomfortable from the minute we sat down. I’m sorry I’m not some repressed bastard like you, but at least I fucking like myself.”

Hermann didn’t reply, he was looking out of the window with a stony expression on his face. Newt leaned down close to him, anger boiling in him and hissed, “Fuck you and your judgment, that quiet enough for you?”

Blinking angry tears from his eyes, Newt stomped past him. Pausing at the entrance he threw an acidic, “Thanks for lunch, by the way,” over his shoulder as he left, slamming the door behind him.

He’d forgotten about the rain between Hermann’s comment and the yelling, and the sudden downpour shocked him out of his anger as he stepped out into the street. He stood for a second, feeling the anger bleed out of him until all he could feel was the shame and the hurt curled insidious in his chest. He wiped his wet sleeve over his face once, twice, then gave up and grimaced into the pavement below him.

He walked home, face downturned against the rain, socks soaking wet and hands clenched into fists in his pockets.

**Author's Note:**

> heavily inspired by both the song berlin by supercos and also my terrible good friend sailer who loves angst as much as i do
> 
> the bombe newt references is the huge machine turing worked on to decrypt secret messages during WWII, not a legit bomb
> 
> comments are always life savers! i'm toying with an idea for a sequel to this, just because i love for these two to be in love


End file.
